It’s not really until someone lies on their deathbed you realize how much an impact they’ve done in your life… A couple of months ago my mother called and told me my grandmother has been diagnosed with cancer. She had been to surgery, but the cancer had returned and is now inoperable. Last i heard was that she’s now very ill, and my mother is hesitant to go on vacation due to her mothers ill condition.

This made me think things trough and wonder, why is it you appreciate people so much more, when they’re about to go? Why do we take people for granted when they’re alive and well? At the same time, I’m blessed with the fact that my grandparents has been a significant impact on my childhood. There was nothing more enjoyable then to go visit them with mom when i was little, have dinner, coffee and cake (or soda and cakes for me of course), or go swimming in the ocean down by the shore. I remember countless times in my older years, that one of my grandmothers favorite stories at the coffee tables was about the time when i was little, and my mom had to drop me off there because she was picking up my father from the army in Oslo. And how i cried so hard and refused to leave when my mom came to pick me up. She really loved me, and i loved being there with them. I never refused to go visit them whenever my mom asked, and even in later years i still didn’t refuse. It was just so peaceful and relaxing to go there, seeing the ocean, just lying in the grass outside their house eating strawberries from their little strawberry field and truly feel alive.

Now she’s sick, has a slight touch of amnesia and keeps mixing up names constantly. She’s a totally different person, and i hate it. That’s why I’ve decided not to go visit her, not when she’s like this. If she gets better, I’d of course love to, but i don’t want the last memory of my beloved grandmother to be her on the sickbed not knowing who i am….. The odds she’ll get any better is slim to none, so my last memory of her will be last Christmas, when we met for Christmas breakfast at my uncle and aunt’s place. She was happy, knew who i was and i got a good hug from her. I’m content.

I’ve also decided I’m going to write a speech at her sermon, and let everyone know that she truly was one of the few people in my family that really meant allot to me, and that made me feel safe and loved.